I looked
in the kitchen
the place where
she could have been
was empty
of her
as if something
had cut around her
and left a nothing
instead.
I stared at the empty air.
I looked
in the bedroom
the same thing
but more so
no her
just the empty
place she
should have been.
The room looked
like a photograph
with her
cut out of it.
A Granny shaped hole
leading into a nothingness.
I looked
in the living room
even more of
the same thing
just the nothing of her
instead of the something of her.
Suddenly I
found her voice
lost amongst flowers
& butterflies
singing to the seeds
sprinkling them
with laughter & water.
Only that was years ago
before she died.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a touching tribute to 'Granny.' How beautiful to be remembered this way! I only hope my grand ones think of me this way as well!